


Virtuoso

by osunism



Series: Lightning In A Bottle [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osunism/pseuds/osunism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the events of "Primum Non Nocere." Cullen has mastered Hadiza's body during their time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtuoso

**Author's Note:**

> Companion fic to "[Primum Non Nocere](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3511658/chapters/7720115)." This scene was very important to me so I kept it separate from the actual fic.

            Cullen’s fingers ghost along her ribcage and he delights in her shrieks of laughter, in the way her lissome body attempts to curl into a fetal ball to escape his teasing, only to unfurl as if the lush, green grass had birthed her. He fits himself between her legs, taking a grip on her arms and smoothing them upward until he pins both of her hands above her head. When he lowers himself to kiss her, he drinks down her subsiding laughter, and sighs when she groans in pleasure.

            “Cullen…” She whispers, and her voice is raw with desire, just how he intended. He kisses her again, deeper, longer, and gently rolls his hips forward. As if by instinct, Hadiza’s legs lift, her thighs sliding high along his torso. He feels her heels settle on his lower back, smirks, and releases her hands. Hadiza instantly tries to hold him, but he bats her arms away easily, chuckling as she whimpers and pouts.

            “Not yet,” he tells her, and kisses the tip of her nose. She smiles, her cheeks warm, blood beating in her ears with anticipation, and then lays back to stare at the night sky between the trees. She lets herself drift as Cullen’s mouth begins a journey from the sleek line of her jaw to the graceful curve of her throat. Knowing she is drifting, Cullen kisses her pounding pulse, relishing the feel of her life’s blood leaping to the touch of his lips. He dabs the tender spot with the tip of his tongue, tracing the region as if he were marking an important spot on a map.

            Hadiza’s breath comes out in a shudder and he rewards her with a gentle but saturated kiss. It is the first of many lover’s marks he will leave on her. Hadiza focuses on the sky but Cullen’s mouth tugs the thread of her mind and she looks without truly seeing. His mouth grazes along her collarbone, drops a kiss in the dip at the center, and then continues the journey lower. She knows what’s coming; she knows it as surely as the sun knows its own path. Cullen has become a virtuoso of the instrument that is her body, knows the lines of music by heart and soul, can find the places on the flesh that move her to sing for him.

            It is why when he grazes the curve of her breast, she lifts her chest, arching slightly, offering herself to him. He pauses in his ministrations, gold eyes flicking up to look at her. Hadiza has long since torn her gaze from the sky, and silver and gold gazes hold one another before Cullen drops his head and engulfs her nipple with his mouth. Hadiza’s reaction is electric. He can hear the sound of grass being torn as she claws for purchase. He holds her steady as the first notes of his composition spill from her open mouth, a wail that spirals up into the night, only to be dragged back in as a high, shuddering gasp for breath. His head does not move, but his tongue traces paths around the hardened bud, the tip flicking back and forth in a rhythm only he controls. Hadiza keens, every nerve in her body abuzz and narrowing in on the point where Cullen’s mouth is focused. She’s wet, and when she rolls her hips in a silent and desperate plea, she can feel the moisture of her own slick, slippery and sticky. Cullen’s hands have not so much as strayed to where she wants them most and it is maddening to her.

            He moves to her other breast, indulging himself by palming them both, squeezing them, rolling the calloused pad of his thumbs over the hardened nipples, sending a bolt of pure need directly to her cunt.

            “Cullen!” She whimpers as he sits up to examine her. Bereft of his touch, Hadiza struggles to collect her thoughts, struggles in vain to gather the shards of her broken willpower, only to find Cullen lifting one of her long legs. He rests the svelte limb on his shoulder, turning his head to kiss the calf, not bothering to hide his smug expression as he tickles the back of her knee, making her laugh involuntarily and call his name in a weak and futile attempt at admonishment.

            Cullen does not answer, but his offending hand drifts down the back of her thigh with a feather’s weight, and she’s caught between laughter and rapt anticipation. Hadiza’s breaths come in quick pants, and she wants him to touch her, wants him to cover his fingers in her slick, splay her open and make her shudder until he wrings her limp with sweat, tears, and the force of her own climax.

            He’s closer, now, and her eyes are transfixed on him. He traces the outline of her sex, and she allows herself a small, victorious smile at his look of surprise. She’s wetter than she’s ever been for him and she doesn’t know why. She’s as slick as ice, but hotter than a smith’s forge and she can see by the way his pupils swallow the gold that he is fighting the urge to plunder her right then and there. Hadiza resists the urge to say his name, resists the urge to beg him for it, knows he’s waiting for the moment she resorts to it, and knows that he too is fighting urges of his own.

            He releases her leg, pushing it aside so that she is propped on her elbows, her legs spread before him, exposed to the cool night air. He takes her in, the way her hair frames her face, the shape of her mouth, the curves of her breasts, tipped with dark nipples, the taut muscle of her stomach, and the soft patch of downy black hair between her spread thighs, glistening with her blatant arousal. Unconsciously, he licks his lips, knows that his will is bending even as he lowers himself into a comfortable position to slide his palms beneath the curves of her rear, lift her hips, and greets her wet and greedy cunt with an open kiss.

            Hadiza drops back down, her head hitting the soft earth with a muffled thump as she fights to gain control of her ragged breathing. Cullen’s kiss melds into a serpentine roll of his tongue from the bottom to the top, applying slightly more pressure on the throbbing bud of her clit. Hadiza’s moan draws from the deep well of her soul and turns into a thin cry, and she thrusts her hips, panting as Cullen’s hands come to clasp them and then pin them to the ground. She wriggles under a grasp that could easily be mistaken for iron for all its strength and is forced now to feel every sensation he deigns fit to inspire in her.

            Cullen can lap at her for hours if he has his way. The taste of her is enough for him, and he takes his time because here, in this place of sanctuary, time doesn’t matter. He runs his tongue along the side of her clit, listens to the loud, uninhibited reaction as Hadiza’s nails rake furrows into the earth and she lets out a sound that can be equal parts anguish, desperation, and unspeakable pleasure. Cullen pulls his mouth away long enough to get her attention. Her breasts are heaving, her pupils dilated until only a ring of silver is visible. Her lips are parted, and she’s panting. Cullen sees the first droplets of sweat forming along her hairline and temples.

            “Talk to me,” he says, turning his head to kiss the tender spot near her hipbone. Hadiza stammers out a response. She has not decided if this sensation is pleasure or ticklishness but Cullen seems to be pleased.

            “Wh-what…?” She manages and gasps as Cullen’s hands slip from under her to drape her lengthy legs over his shoulders. She knows what he’s going to do and she doesn’t think she can get any wetter than this.

            “I said,” he pushes her legs back as he leans forward, “talk,” A kiss on the back of her thigh, “To me.” Hadiza is folded in half, now, and she’s relaxed and pliant as Cullen’s body slide up, pressing her into the ground. She twitches as she feels the hot and velvety head of his cock slide against her moist slit. She is awarded another small victory as Cullen hisses between his teeth. Hadiza thinks he will plunder her, now, will drive himself deep and hard into her until he can drag her soul out through her pulsating walls.

            “What do you want me to say…?” She breathes. Cullen chuckles and begins to rock his hips back and forth, his cock sliding in a sawing motion between her slick lips. She shudders each time she feels the rigid heat of his length pass over her clit.

            “Everything.” He tells her, sliding his hips back, adjusting his angle, and plunging deep.

            Hadiza lets out a strangled and heartfelt cry, her body going rigid as she stretches to accommodate the thick girth, but she’s so wet it doesn’t matter. With her bent and doubled as she is, the angle allows him to reach deeper than he ever has, and she swears she can feel the thrum of his pulse in the veined braille along his cock, hugged tight by lust-saturated walls.

            “C-Cullen…” Hadiza manages to shudder out in something that is caught between a squeal and a sob. Cullen adjusts and each movement draws out a whimper. He moves her legs just so, marveling at her dedicated flexibility. He can almost lean down to kiss her, but he wants to see the way her face transforms. Slowly, agonizingly, he draws his hips back. Hadiza lets out a small sound, and then it expands, her brow furrowed, her head tipped back as she gasps and pants for him. Cullen relishes the wet, sucking sound of her cunt attempting to draw him back in, her slick lips clamped over his girth and he nearly loses control when he thinks of how it must look, his cock, hard and slick with her juices. It’s enough to almost make him swear.

            He’s almost fully drawn out of her and Hadiza is shuddering all over and it’s all he can do not to come right then and there at the sight. She’s as wet as tears and hot and inviting. Everything about her is hot and inviting. He watches her lips moved, forming useless words that never come because he’s thrusting forward again, hard enough to hear the sound of his flesh meeting her own. It tears a ragged cry from her. Words mean nothing. He tells her to talk, but what he really wants is to hear her cry out for him, and she does so… _beautifully._

Hadiza feels her thoughts stretching into thin strips, twining together to form the thread Cullen is tugging on. Each thrust of his hips brings a startled and pleasured groan from her, and his pace is torturous and agonizingly slow.

            But she’s dripping all over him as a result.

            Cullen knows he won’t last long with her keening like this, with her shuddering and moaning as his pace slowly rises, establishing an easy rhythm. The ground beneath them is spongy enough that she bounces back toward him a little with each thrust, bringing a thrilling curl to his toes when she make _that_ noise, the one that sounds like nothing in this world will ever make her feel the way he does.

            His pride swells and he draws back, releasing her legs, guiding them gently to settle loosely around his waist. He’s still inside of her, but he wants— _needs_ —to feel her, now. When he sits up and back on his heels, Hadiza knows what she’s in for. Still, knowing and experiencing are two different things.

            “Hold on.” Cullen tells her, and it’s all the warning she gets before he grips her slender waist and pulls her up so that she straddles his strong thighs. They are intimately close, now, and Cullen’s arms go around her, sliding up her back, feeling the innumerable indentations of the bruised grass on her skin. Hadiza’s arms come around his neck, and she locks her legs around him. Without needing to ask, she kisses him deeply, but is cut short as Cullen lifts her, sliding her along the length of his cock, and then lowers her. Her head falls back as he repeats the motion, faster, harder, and she joins in this new phase of their dance. Her toes dig into the earth, and she gasps, her breaths sharply punctuating each slap of her bottom to his thighs. She tries to stammer out his name, but all that pours from her parted lips are pleas.

            _More_.

            _Please._

_Oh **Maker**._

Hadiza’s words are reduced to ululating moans, breasts bouncing, with Cullen growling out his pleasure before her. He is plundering her, stroking her until he strikes the very bottom of her, trying to get her wet enough to soak herself and him. She is yielding without breaking, her nails digging into his scarred skin, scoring marks along his back and shoulders as she does as he ordered: _hold on_.

            She loves this position, and he knows it. It is the best way to bring her to her most violent and passionate climax. Watching Hadiza unravel around his cock is a sight he will never tire of seeing. It begins with her yelps, and ends with her impassioned begging. Cullen will never admit it, but he loved the sound of her pleading for him to continue, to never stop, to please _never_ stop.

            He doesn’t stop, not until she’s covered in that light sheen of sweat that gives her dark skin that ethereal glow. He doesn’t stop, not until her cries rise in pitch, higher and higher, signifying her impending climax. He doesn’t stop, even as her cunt begins its convulsive rhythms, a new wash of liquid heat spilling over his groin, mingling with his sweat and hers.

            He doesn’t stop until he wrings her of her first climax, and soon after, her second. Hadiza is limp against him, mewling and whimpering as he growls in her ear. She hisses, clutching him as he thrusts hard, fast, and deep, no longer plundering, but coming. His cock twitches as he empties himself into her in hot spurts, their sweat-slick bodies sliding against one another as he pants out and sucks air deeply through his nose.

            “Hadiza…” he gasps out, her name a prayer more fervent in that moment than anything he could find in the Chant, “…oh _Hadiza_.” The muscles in his thighs are twitching and neither one of them move. He does not want to let go of her, and she is too weak to let go of him, so they bask in the aftermath, as everything draws back like the ocean sucking at the shore, receding to join their whole selves. Both are breathing heavily, damp with sweat, limp with release.

            Words seem useless and likely would tarnish the moment, so they are silent, with only the distant wind whispering through the canopy to lull them into a state of contentment. It is only after their sweat is cooled and drying that they move. Slowly, stiffly, they retreat to their tent, to their bedroll and settle into sleep. Hadiza relishes the delicious and sticky soreness between her thighs, as she lies on her side. Cullen is behind her, and he gathers her to him, sighing happily as her body settles and melds to his.

            “I should turn into a swarm of butterflies more often…” She murmurs drowsily. Cullen responds with a light snort and a nip to the edge of her ear.

            “You would have inspired me to passion regardless, Hadiza.” He murmurs gently, his breath warm. Hadiza laughs.

            “If you say so.” And then she squeals as he pinches her bottom in response. The glow of their lovemaking passes, and slowly they drift off to sleep.

            Cullen does not dream.


End file.
